


sitting by the orange trees

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, pure sappy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: “Look, why don't we leave tomorrow? That is, if you'll give me another chance to prove myself a worthy travel companion. We could head to the coast. Get away for a while. Sounds like something Borch would say, doesn't it? Life is too short. Do what pleases you while you can.”Fix it for 1.06 followed by a trip to the beach.Established Geraskier, though Geralt/Yennefer happened afterwards.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 244





	sitting by the orange trees

**Author's Note:**

> I'm overwhelmed by the response to my last fic--thank you, guys. As promised, here's some fluff to make up for the pain of that one.

_ Flowers in my hair, I belong by the sea  
Where we used to be, sitting by the orange trees  
Summer in the air, bodies in the heat  
Just you and me, sitting by the orange trees _

-MARINA, Orange Trees

Jaskier has no idea what town he’s in. It doesn’t matter much anyway. Someone recognizes him and asks for a song--his companion asks for “Toss a Coin”, but Jaskier shrugs them off. He orders another pint of ale and contemplates the bottom of the tankard through the murky liquid. Maybe in another few months he’ll feel like singing ballads about the witcher again, but he can’t bring himself to do it right now. It’s still too fresh.

“See you around,” he’d said, but he hadn’t actually meant it. He didn’t expect to see the witcher again. Geralt. His friend. Well. His former friend. Geralt had made that pretty clear.

What he needs is a new muse. A new lady, maybe, or perhaps a new hero. An unlikely hero--someone people didn’t believe could be a hero. Someone who Jaskier could paint in a new light with his lyrics and make the world see just how extraordinary they were. A sorcerer, maybe. But they were all so high and mighty, that didn’t make for good songs. No, what Jaskier needed was someone… 

Well, someone like Geralt.

Jaskier heaved a sigh and downed his ale in one go before signaling for another.

“At that pace you’ll be on the floor before supper.”

Jaskier nearly does just that with how much he startles. As it is, he does fall off his stool, grabbing whatever he possibly can to prevent him from going all the way down. As it so happens, the thing he grabs is the massively strong hand that the speaker holds out. It yanks him forward so he’s back on his feet, and the owner of the hand gives him a small, unusually cautious, smile.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, almost hushed. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” Geralt says. Jaskier scoffs and downs his ale, signaling for another.

“Trying to drink yourself under the table?” Geralt asks, amusement in his tone. Jaskier glares at him.

“If you came here just to mock me, you can leave now.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jaskier can see Geralt’s face turn serious. Jaskier takes a smaller drink from the refilled tankard, staying quiet as Geralt actually fidgets. It’s small, barely noticeable, but Jaskier sees it.

“I came to apologize,” Geralt finally says.

Jaskier looks at him incredulously. “It’s been a year, Geralt.”

Geralt smiles. “I did have to find you first.”

“You’re a witcher,” Jaskier says with a shake of his head. “It wouldn’t take you that long to track me down.”

Geralt goes quiet again before continuing. “I also… had to find my Child Surprise first.”

Jaskier winces. “Oh, gods, I heard about Cintra. Did you get to him in time?” he asks earnestly.

“Her,” Geralt corrects. “And, yes, she is alive.”

Jaskier sips at his ale, looking around the tavern at the people mulling about. “Is she here?”

“I left her with Yennefer.”

Jaskier tries very hard not to react. “Ah,” he says, and the drink of ale is larger this time. “Yeah. Of course.” Look, he’d like Yennefer a lot more if she, one, wasn’t a crazy person, and two, if she and Geralt didn’t have that weird… thing. Connection. Bond. Whatever. Jaskier hated being the jealous type, but Geralt had been  _ his _ first. And then Yennefer had swooped in and--

“Jaskier.” The name is a low rumble in Geralt’s chest that does things it shouldn’t to Jaskier. Not anymore at least.

“What, Geralt?” Jaskier says, trying to sound neutral, but probably sounding more irritated than anything. Geralt is quiet until Jaskier glances over at him.

“What can I do to make this right?” he says, and it’s about the most sincere thing Jaskier’s ever heard the man say. But Jaskier is petulant if nothing else in this moment so what he says is:

“I dunno. You kind of blamed every bad thing in your life on me, so, you know. That wasn’t…” He fights to find a word that doesn’t give away too much. “Pleasant.”

“I spoke out of misplaced anger. I didn’t… hm,” Geralt trails off haltingly and looks down at his hands. “I didn’t mean any of it, Jaskier.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your verbal punching bag,” Jaskier says, and that’s not petulance, that’s just the fucking truth.

“I know,” Geralt says, looking up again and meeting Jaskier’s eyes. “And I want to make it up to you.”

Jaskier assesses Geralt for a moment or two. He did come to find Jaskier. And he did apologize. He even recognized why what he’d said hurt and apologized specifically. Maybe it didn’t mean all that Jaskier wanted it to mean, but being friends was better than nothing.

“What do you have in mind?” he says finally.

“You mentioned getting away for a while,” Geralt says with surprisingly little thought. “Going to the coast.”

Jaskier blinks at him. “Okay, who are you and what did you do to Geralt of Rivia?” Geralt looks confused, but Jaskier continues. “First you’re apologizing and now you’re suggesting we go on vacation to the beach?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, and it’s that rumble from deep in his chest again, and Jaskier fights the urge to visibly shudder.

“You’re serious,” he says. Geralt’s lips crack into a small, stupidly sincere smile.

“Yes.”

* * *

It did mean all that Jaskier wanted it to mean, and Jaskier comtemplates the implications of that with his head on Geralt’s lap, the tangy scent of sex filling his head. Geralt is gently running his fingers through Jaskier’s hair, and Jaskier is absentmindedly tracing Geralt’s scars.

“This one’s new,” he murmurs, tracing a large bit on Geralt’s left thigh.

“Ghoul,” Geralt says. Jaskier looks up at him with wide eyes.

“You got bit by a ghoul? How are you alive?”

“Luck,” Geralt says with a shrug. Jaskier huffs and lays his head back down.

“I dunno what I would’ve done if…”

The fingers running through his hair stop. “If what?”

Jaskier swallows thickly. He hadn’t meant to say that outloud, but now that the thought has hit him he feels slightly sick. Geralt’s fingers tighten in his hair, and Jaskier winces.

“If what, Jaskier?” His voice is surprisingly gentle.

“If you’d died,” Jaskier says quietly. “If that day on the mountain had been… had been the last time I’d seen you.”

“Hm.”

Jaskier smiles, small and wry. Of course that was Geralt’s response. After a moment the witcher’s fingers resume their task of running through Jaskier’s hair, and Jaskier hums, nuzzling his face against Geralt’s leg. Here he is in a cottage by the ocean, laying in bed with Geralt. And the cottage is surrounded by orange trees. And he can hear the gentle lapping of waves outside, just a few meters away from the cottage, slowly lulling him to sleep.

* * *

Geralt’s face is nuzzled in Jaskier’s neck, his breath tickling him just enough to be pleasant without making him squirm. Jaskier is sore in all the right places and Geralt’s arm is strong around his torso, pulling him in close. The morning sun is peeking through a window, and Jaskier basks in it’s light for a few moments before extracting himself from Geralt’s grip to relieve himself. By the time he returns, Geralt has moved outside, sitting in a chair overlooking the ocean. Jaskier stops in the doorway, watching his lover with a smile. 

“Morning,” Jaskier says after a moment.

“Hm,” Geralt hums without flinching. “Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Well. You?”

Jaskier grins, but Geralt is still looking out to sea, unable to see Jaskier’s expression. “Sleeping here has been the best sleep I’ve had in ages. Though I’m not entirely sure it has anything to do with the location.” He’d wink if Geralt were looking.

“Hm.” Silence except for the waves falls as Jaskier watches Geralt. Before this trip Jaskier would’ve been extremely uneasy about the fact Geralt hadn’t turned to acknowledge him yet. But over the past week or so Geralt had shown Jaskier again and again that there was nothing to be afraid of. Sure, he didn’t say much, but Jaskier never expected him to. He knew.

“You look deep in thought,” Jaskier says after a few moments. Geralt doesn’t respond. “Care to share?” It’s quiet for another moment, then:

“I’ve been thinking about something you said,” Geralt says slowly. “‘Do what pleases you while you can.’”

Jaskier lets out a little laugh. “When did I say that?”

“When you suggested we come to the coast.”

“Hm,” Jaskier says, and, yes, he is making fun of Geralt, thank you. “I am wiser than my years.”

Geralt isn’t moved by the joke. Instead he finally,  _ finally _ looks at the bard and says, “Jaskier. I think I’ve been busy chasing happiness when all I needed… was a little peace.”

Jaskier stares back at Geralt, trying to read those golden eyes. “And have you found it?” he asks quietly. Geralt stands up and walks over to Jaskier, cupping his face and looking deep into his soul. Jaskier holds back a shudder.

“Yes.”

Jaskier’s mouth twists into a smile that he tries to keep stamped down from turning into something truly ridiculous and showing the bubbling glee in his stomach, the stutter of his heart. He takes Geralt’s arms and wraps them around himself, turning to face the ocean and lean against Geralt’s chest. It’s comfortable like this, especially when Geralt presses his face into Jaskier’s hair and sighs.

“How long do you think we should stay?” Jaskier asks after who knows how long.

“Who says we need to leave?” Geralt says, and Jaskier rolls his eyes, nudging Geralt in the ribs with his elbow. Geralt’s tone was deadpan, but Jaskier has long learned to tell when he’s joking.

“Ciri’s waiting for you.”

Geralt kisses Jaskier’s ear. “She can wait a while longer. I’m enjoying my peace for now.”

“Piece of ass?”

Geralt doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course.”

“Aw, I’m blushing,” Jaskier says, squirming in Geralt’s arms. Geralt tightens his grip.

“You usually are.”

Jaskier smacks Geralt’s arm. “Hey! Am not!”

“Hm.” Geralt kisses his ear again and lets go of his hold on Jaskier, instead taking him by the hand and pulling him back inside. Jaskier raises an eyebrow and follows without complaint.

“You’re insatiable,” he says. Geralt smiles, sitting on the bed.

“I don’t hear any complaints.”

Jaskier grins, climbing into Geralt’s lap. “Very true.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ loralielo


End file.
